


the tremendous courage of the first touch

by cincave



Series: Character Studies [2]
Category: Gaya Sa Pelikula (Web Series)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-20
Updated: 2020-12-20
Packaged: 2021-03-11 02:29:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28037721
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cincave/pseuds/cincave
Summary: A character study: Ian Pangilinan
Series: Character Studies [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2094300
Kudos: 11





	the tremendous courage of the first touch

The first time you meet Pao, you are amazed at how brave he is. He is loud, unapologetic and true to himself.

Looking back, you are not surprised he initially got the role of Vlad.

After all, he _is_ Vlad: staring the world straight in the eye and daring it to blink.

Even through the sheen of your Mac screen, through that Zoom casting call of destiny, you can feel the heat of his fierceness at how he challenges the world by simply existing.

How does one stand next to a supernova without being consumed by its flames?

How do you not spontaneously combust whenever you are near his immolating brightness? 

You are this quiet, weird theatre kid who only feels real when you are performing, when eyes are on you, as if you need the eyes of others to help you find the true you. 

And yet, there he is, flame-bright and sure, casually yet flawlessly performing a double flip, powered by the hidden strength in his body. You suppose that it is easy to defy gravity when you have defied the world countless times and won.

You wonder if constantly being in the corona of his fire personality has somehow changed you. You've always sought quiet and solitude after performances, needing to shut out the world for a bit.

But now, no one is more surprised than you when you realize that you would gladly trade all of the world's silence for a second of his brave, brave laughter. As if you have had a taste of his wonderful warmth and somehow, like the sunflower seeks the rays of the sun, you want more of it.

Why would you ever need the stillness when there is so much joy in the impromptu diva monologues he effortlessly plucks from the depths of his psyche?

Why would you need quiet contemplation when you feel so real just by talking to him?

He understands you so much better than all the eyes of a theatre audience.

Somewhere, sometime during the chaos and maelstrom of your series unfolding and soaring, the question formed in your head, something you have never even considered before. Whispers at first, easily ignored until it made its home in the corners of your heart and the crevices of your mind. 

And now, here, in the middle of the night, in his beloved university, after he has ruthlessly shoved half a putobumbong into your hands and made fun of the way you said it, you finally ask the question to yourself:

What would it be like to touch his face without the gloves of a character?

What would it be like to touch him as you?


End file.
